


LiTTlE bRoTHer

by LadyGlinda



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Action Figures, Angst and Humor, Crack, Don't Judge Me, Don't Try This At Home, Explicit Sexual Content, Improvised Sex Toys, M/M, Masturbation Interruptus, Shameless Smut, Sibling Incest, Smut, holmescest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-21 02:24:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14906564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyGlinda/pseuds/LadyGlinda
Summary: Mycroft Holmes receives a gift. And feels a certain desire. Things go wrong and then they go right.





	LiTTlE bRoTHer

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here is a... different story… :) I hope you enjoy. I certainly enjoyed writing it.

Mycroft, sitting behind his desk in the Cabinet building office, looked at the item that John Watson was offering to him with a grimace of utter exasperation. “What am I supposed to do with this… thing?!”

Said 'thing' was an action figure of Sherlock in a plastic case. It was a tad bigger than these ghastly dolls for little girls, complete with coat, curls and cheekbones.

John grinned his usual smug grin that cried for being beaten out of his face - if Mycroft had lowered himself to take to violence, which he didn’t. He knew John had no such qualms… “They gave Sherlock five of them and I thought you might like one. Oh, there's one of me, too, by the way.”

“And you play with them, then? Do they solve little plastic cases?”

“Hey, that was funny!” John chuckled. “I bet they'll sell thousands of them. Well, more 'Sherlocks' than 'Doctor Watsons' I'm sure. He doesn’t admit it, but he's totally flattered.”

“That doesn’t surprise me the tiniest bit,” Mycroft mumbled.

“Well, you can admire him all day now if you want, and the figure won't make any snarky remarks when you talk to it. I better go now.”

“Does he know you brought me this?”

“Hehe, yes. He gave me one and told me to give away the others. I really like it.”

That didn’t surprise Mycroft any more but he kept that to himself.

“Bye then.”

“Bye, Doctor Watson. And… thank you.” His mother had taught Mycroft to show gratitude even when the gift was unwelcome and unnecessary. She had taught Sherlock too of course, but he had long forgotten these manners…

“Not at all. Have fun with it! Ta!”

Mycroft stared at the figure which was surprisingly accurate. Even the eye colour was very real. As well as Sherlock's arrogant expression.

Then he put it at the edge of his desk. He had work to do.

But he found it rather hard to concentrate on his report. His eyes searched for Little Sherlock every few minutes. Or rather – seconds.

*****

It had been a long day. Once he had finally put the figure into his briefcase so it couldn’t distract him anymore, he had gone through the report rather quickly, but then he had been tied up in meetings for the rest of the day.

Now he hung up his coat, leaned his umbrella against the wall and slowly crossed the hallway to get himself a drink. He took the glass with him to his bedroom, where he undressed, and he fetched a fresh bath towel and walked over to the adjoining bathroom. A few minutes later, he was soaking in hot water full of bubbles. Bubbles were one of his guilty pleasures.

When he was thoroughly clean and fresh and clean-shaven, he was ready to go to bed. It was only nine but he would have to get up early in the morning. Like every morning for the past twenty years and counting.

He slipped into his silky, dark-blue bathrobe and walked back into his bedroom. He poured himself another drink before lying down on the bed, still clothed in the robe.

The politician was feeling… tense… He sighed. It was time again. A certain urge had been ignored for a long time but sometimes it demanded attention.

His long fingers wrapped around his even longer, thick cock that had already started to fill out. He carefully pulled the foreskin back and rubbed the tip of his forefinger over the slit. It was a good feeling, he had to admit.

But he felt he needed more. A different kind of stimulation. He had two plugs in different sizes and could have easily reached the drawer where he was storing them.

And then something caught his attention. He had brought his briefcase to the bedroom. Normally he never did that.

He remembered what Sherlock had once said about premonitions…

_No. I can't!_

_You'll think of him anyway._

And that was that.

*****

Oh, God… this felt so bloody good. One hand was roughly sliding up and down his now fully hard cock, the other one was busy teasing and circling his entrance – with the help of the action figure and the lube he had taken out of the drawer. Thank God the figure didn’t have real hair…

“Oh, Sherlock,” he mumbled with closed eyes.

And he was not talking to the figure… He didn’t know what was more pathetic though – rimming himself with a piece of plastic or pining after his own little brother, picturing him at his side, which would of course never happen.

The pleasure he was feeling did numb the usual feelings of guilt though. He imagined his brother's wonderful lips, taking the place of his circling, pressing hand, pictured him looking up to him with reverence in his amazing eyes – and he imagined him sliding his long dick into him. And that's what he needed now. Penetration. And since his brother was obviously oblivious to his sick desires and also very much absent, his stand-in had to step in.

Dripping of raspberry-flavoured lube, the figure's black-curled head pushed against Mycroft's hole. “Not so eager, brother mine,” Mycroft mumbled absently.

He hissed when the complete head breached the ring of muscles. “Bloody cheekbones.” Of course he loved Sherlock's cheekbones. He would have died for just kissing them once, rubbing over them with his thumb and damn, also with his cock. They were sharp though, at least when it came to the toy. Well, at least it didn’t have a sharp tongue…

“Damn, you do me so well, so great,” escaped his lips when he started to move his hand. The penetration went in rhythm with the masturbation of his achingly hard member.

But he needed more. He changed the angle so the figure brushed over his prostate. He closed his eyes again in pure bliss. He did it once more, and then his phone vibrated on the nightstand and startled him, and an inadvertent twist of his hand led to a noise he really didn’t want to hear.

“Oh fucking God!”

Mycroft was not a man who frequently used such language. But he could hardly recall a time when it had been more appropriate…

*****

Covered in sweat, his hair standing up, he cringed at the sound of the doorbell. _No, please_ … He really didn’t need that now! Because who would just come over so late during a work day? Who would not go away when he didn’t open up? Actually he knew who it was who now pressed the button again, impatiently. Someone who not-so-secretly had a key and would…

“Mycroft? I saw light in your bedroom! Why don't you open your door?!” he heard the detective's baritone from the corridor.

“No,” he mumbled, took the figure and threw it under his bed, along with the bottle of lube, then he tied his robe and stood casually next to the bed when his brother burst into the room.

“Mycroft? What's wrong? Are you ill? Or…” He looked around, spotting nobody of course.

“Sherlock,” Mycroft said, desperately trying to sound completely calm. “It's late. What can I do for you?”

Sherlock stared at him with narrowed eyes and then impatiently shook his head. “Sometimes I really wonder about you… Anyway. Do you have the figure?”

“What?!”

“I need it. Do you have it here or in the office?” Then he saw something that Mycroft should have removed as well. The case which had contained the bloody thing. “Oh, so it's here. Can I have it?”

“What for… John said he was authorized to give them away,” he croaked, knowing very well how pathetic this sounded. He was a man of forty-four – why the hell should he be so keen on keeping this damn doll?!

“Yes, but someone asked me for two of them, for his two kids. I asked him for a favour which is urgent and he said he would do it if I gave him the figures. I'll get you a new one for God's sake. John was equally reluctant to give me his one…” He shook his head. “God, who knew you are all just obsessed with me?! Now?”

Mycroft slumped down on the bed. “I can't… I'm sorry…”

“Why ever not? What did you do with it?”

Mycroft groaned. “Please, for once in your life, Sherlock, just accept a 'no' and leave it alone. I beg you.”

He could literally see Sherlock understand. “Oh.My.God.”

“Don't say it! Please!”

“You… What the hell? You used it for…” Sherlock's eyes were huge and his mouth was standing open unattractively. Well, at least it would have if anything about his gorgeous brother could ever be unattractive.

This was the single most embarrassing moment of Mycroft's life. His heart was racing and he felt sweat appear all over his body and especially on his forehead. Perhaps he would have a heart-attack or a stroke now. He would embrace it if it would only be lethal…

“Um, well, oh…” Sherlock sat down on the bed next to him, his cheeks flushed (but certainly not as much as Mycroft's…). “But… You know… We could… wash it off then and…”

“That won't help because it doesn’t have a head anymore!” Mycroft screamed.

Sherlock was speechless, his face starting to resemble a tomato. “You mean it's…”

“It's in my bloody arse, yes, and I just tried to get it out for half an hour and it doesn’t work…” Mycroft turned around and smashed himself onto the bed and a second later, he was sobbing uncontrollably. Oh, if anyone could just shoot him now…

“Alright.” He winced when he heard Sherlock's voice rumbling next to his ear. “Let me help you.”

“No, please, just go away.”

“We could wait until it comes out by himself of course but…”

“Oh, God,” Mycroft groaned.

“Just relax. Imagine I'm a proctologist.”

This couldn’t be… Sherlock couldn’t…

And then he did. The robe was shoved upwards and two hands urged him to spread his legs.

“No, Sherlock, you…”

“Hush, brother mine. It will be over in a few seconds. Thank God I have such long fingers. But you have to relax as much as possible.”

Relax? Relax when his brother put his fingers into his arse? Something he had dreamt about for decades? His head spinning from shame and terror, he tried his best. He bit into the sheets when he felt it happening – his little brother's long digits penetrating his hole.

“Alright. It will hurt a bit now I guess. Just… I got it… No pulling together now! There is a sharp edge on the bottom. There you go. That's it.”

Mycroft turned onto his back, completely forgetting that he was naked. He stared at his dick, again half-hard. No, make that almost fully hard… People were right. It could really always still get worse…

Sherlock tossed the head aside. “Does it hurt? You think you need a doctor?”

“Oh, yes, send John Watson in.” That would have worsened the situation remarkably…

Sherlock smiled. “I wasn’t thinking of him. But I didn’t see blood so I think you're alright.”

'Alright' was a relative term… He was terrified. Beaten. Humiliated. You name it.

“So…” Sherlock said. “You… thought of me when you used me?”

The twinkle in his eyes almost killed Mycroft. “Oh, please, spare me your mockery and these puns.”

“I wasn’t mocking you.”

He really didn’t sound like it… But how could he NOT be?

Sherlock even smiled. “I think that's rather…”

“Disgusting? Immoral? Completely and utterly depraved?”

“… sweet,” Sherlock finished.

“Sweet?!”

“Yes. You like me, don't you?”

Mycroft groaned.

“For a long time?”

“Please… Thank you for your help, Sherlock, but if I mean anything to you, please leave me alone now and pretend this never happened.” That was demanded a lot from a man who recalled everything and never missed the chance to make fun of him…

“Well… You know I don't have any experience but…”

“What are you doing?!” Mycroft stared at Sherlock's hand that had grabbed his incredibly still hard cock.

“Do you like if I move it up and down?”

“You can't do that…”

And then Sherlock bent over and kissed him on the lips, probingly, carefully. He licked over Mycroft's teeth and pulled back. “I like that,” he stated.

“Sherlock, don't play with me. I'm sure you never thought about that before.”

“No, I didn’t. But I do it now and you know I think quite fast.” Sherlock's hand was still gently sliding up and down his length and it felt heavenly. “You could teach me everything. We can talk and we won't bore each other. Our brains work the same way. I trust you. You were always there for me and you always will – you said it yourself.”

“Of course I will but… Oh…”

Sherlock held his hand still. “If you don't want it, I'll stop and go. But if you do, I'm open to it.”

“You'll break my heart if we get into this and you find out it's not what you want.”

“I'd say the probability is quite small. But there are no guarantees in life, never.”

That was true of course.

“Agreed. If you really want that, let's give it a try. Would you… undress?” _And make my dreams and horny fantasies come true?_

“Not a problem.” Sherlock smiled at him and proceeded to reveal what Mycroft had fantasised about for longer than he was willing to admit.

*****

Sherlock looked a bit shy when he was standing in front of him, completely naked, but then he saw Mycroft's look and visibly relaxed.

His brother was glorious. Beautiful. All muscles and ripped, no fat to be seen, his smooth skin pale but somehow… glowing. And he was already aroused to his utter surprise.

“Come here,” he said. This was all too surreal to be true and perhaps Sherlock would after one touch pick up his clothes and run but he would do all he could to make him stay and make him feel great.

Mycroft was sitting on the edge of the bed and pulled Sherlock between his spread legs. His right hand slid over the scar on his chest and he bent over to kiss it. Sherlock panted quietly and grabbed his shoulders.

The older man looked up to him. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, of course.”

“If I do something you don't like, just say the word or push me away and I'll stop.”

Sherlock swallowed. His one hand moved southwards and pulled at his semi-hard dick. “Would you… maybe… with your mouth…”

“Oh yes, brother dear.” Mycroft didn’t waste any time and gently lapped over the head of his little brother's dick. He who didn’t believe in any higher powers almost expected to be struck by lightning but the only lightning seemed to happen in his brother's groin as he bent his head and moaned to the ceiling. Mycroft took that as consent and went on licking Sherlock's shiny knob, lapping up the tiny drops of salty liquid that appeared in the slit.

“This is so good…”

“I'm glad.” And then he started sucking Sherlock in earnest. He had not done that very often in his life and he had always thought of Sherlock when he'd done it with any random guy, but it came naturally to him and he could feel Sherlock's thighs tremble when he was working him over with tongue, lips and his hands that were fondling his thick, swollen balls and his crack, kneading his impossibly sexy arse cheeks from time to time.

It couldn’t take long and it didn't. With a cry Sherlock emptied his balls into Mycroft's mouth and he eagerly swallowed every drop and cleaned Sherlock's twitching dick with his tongue thoroughly.

Sherlock stumbled to the side and let himself fall backwards onto the bed, panting severely. “Oh God, brother, that was incredible…”

Mycroft smiled, absently rubbing his own erection. A very full erection… “So you are okay with giving it a try?”

“Oh damn… don't state the obvious.” But Sherlock turned his head and winked at him when he said it. “What can I do for you now?”

“Oh, I'll take care of it myself.”

“No, you won't. I guess I'm not able to move now though. You've sucked the life out of me. Is there anything we can do without me getting up or having me choke at your huge dick? Don't get me wrong – I'm very willing to do what you just did but perhaps not right now.”

“Of course not. You'll have to start slowly. And um, actually… I would love to… But no. That's too dirty.”

“Mycroft, just say it. Believe me I won't be upset. I suppose you're not talking about taking me.”

“No, of course not! Not tonight.”

“Then what? What do you want?”

“I want… to… rub your face…”

“Oh… You mean with…”

“Yes… Your cheekbones…”

Sherlock chuckled. “Come here, brother dear. They are all yours.”

And a few seconds later, Mycroft was hovering over his brother, rubbing his seriously leaking cock over Sherlock's high, sharp cheekbones. Sherlock blinked and licked his lips and then darted out his tongue and licked over Mycroft's balls, and that was enough to make him come directly into Sherlock's face. It was messy and horrible and completely scandalous but the view of his semen soiling Sherlock's forehead and his hair was so exciting that he came and came and came until he broke down next to him.

“Oh, brother!” Sherlock wiped over his eyes. “That was amazing!” His hair was a mess and his face sticky from come. It would have been a disgrace if it hadn't been so sexy…

“I'm sorry, I'll clean you up…”

“No.” Sherlock got out of the bed. “I so need a shower now. Care to join me?”

Mycroft crawled to the edge of the bed and stood up. “Yes.” He definitely needed it as well, sticky as he was.

Sherlock gently stroked over his side, making goosebumps break out on his skin. “So… Was that better than the doll?”

Mycroft grimaced. “You'll tease me with this forever, right?”

“Most definitely. And as I said – I'll get you a new one… We could have a threesome…”

“Oh, Sherlock!”

But his brother laughed out loud and took his hand, and Mycroft could have thanked all higher powers and even John Watson for finally being allowed to make love to his wonderful, brilliant, perfect little brother.

The End


End file.
